Thursday 13 January 2011

Sense and sensibility

When I was in the library the other day I spotted a book on the "new in" shelf which looked as though it might be interesting. It was about wine tasting. Now, I'm not a wine buff. I read the waffle on the bottles I drink and am always amused by the phrases such as 'full of red fruits', 'hints of citrus', 'reminders of the garrigue' and so on. It all seems a bit OTT and pretentious. As far as I'm concerned, the important thing is whether I like the taste not whether somebody somewhere thinks he/she can just get a hint of the scent of roses or whatever. Thinking I might be able to expand my education, I picked up the book and flicked through it. I put the book back on the shelf when I read that the most important think when it comes to wine tasting is one's sense of smell. The author made the point that what one smells influences how one tastes and suggested a small experiment. Hold a ripe pear under your nose, he instructed, while you eat an apple. The apple wil taste like a pear because the small of the pear overrides the taste of the apple. I'm sorry, sunshine, but that doesn't cut it with me. You see, I have practically no sense of smell. I can be standing right by the toaster but if I have my back to it when the toast burns, that's it. I only know the toast is burning when I see the smoke: I can't smell it.

This lack of a sense of smell has its disadvantages, of course. I don't get the benefit of the Old Bat's expensive perfume unless she practically bathes in it. I have to poke my nose right into a fragrant flower such as a sweet pea if I'm to get and pleasure from its scent. You will gather that my sense of smell is not completely non-existent; there are some smells that do get through. Luckily, most of these are pleasant: baking bread, roasting coffee, garlic (I love garlic).

As well as having disadvantages, there are certain benefits of my lack. When the dog rolls in fox shit the smell is less distasteful to me than to others; indeed, there have been times when I haven't noticed it at all until the Old Bat complains that I've brought a foul-smelling dog into the house.

But how this lack of a sense of smell affects the taste of things I haven't the faintest idea. I suspect that the taste of food is less strong for me than for others but I have no way of comparing things. The strength or weakness of sight and hearing can be measured, but there is no way of measuring smell or taste.

People have tried blaming my lack of the ability to smell on the fact that I am a smoker but I point out that it is hereditary. Neither my mother nor her mother had much of a sense of smell and somehow it has been passed down the male line in this generation. (It couldn't go down the female line as I have no sister.) I don't know if any of my mother's siblings or their children are affected - I've never thought to ask. Come to that, I don't even know about my brother!

I do sometimes wonder what it must be like to have a keen sense of smell. (The Old Bat can be upstairs when I come into the back door, but she still knows if I've had a drink.) But then, what you've never had you can't miss. I do have my sight and that, to me, is the most precious of the senses, followed by hearing. But smell - I can live without it.

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